


Lime Green

by finding_niamho



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Dancing, Disgusting colours, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Painting, Smashed mugs, The tea is fine, paint fight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-15
Updated: 2020-06-15
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:29:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24733945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/finding_niamho/pseuds/finding_niamho
Summary: Simon and Baz are ready to paint their living room, but something's up with the paint...
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 4
Kudos: 50





	Lime Green

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this to justify colouring their walls the grossest colour I have. Partially based on real experience. This is just I short one but I hope you enjoy! 🐟

I stumble through the door with one shopping bag in each hand, the keys digging into the palm of my right fist. One is heavier than the other, so I walk leaning sideways like a zombie. I dump the bags on the kitchen counter, pocketing the keys as I hear the door click shut. Flexing my hands to ease out the stiffness in my fingers, I spy a few cans next to the shopping with a note on the top. The note reads:

_Gone out to visit Dev. Please could you get started on the living room walls? Brushes in the cupboard, newspaper by the fireplace._   
_Baz x_

I grab some newspaper from by the fireplace to put on the floor, as well as a bunch of brushes and a screwdriver. I put on an old t-shirt and a scruffy pair of jeans – I can guarantee that this is gonna get messy and I happen to quite like this jumper.

 _Okay_ , I think, kneeling down on the paper. _Let’s see what colour he picked out._

Baz didn’t let me come with him to choose because I have “no taste.” I use the screwdriver to pop open the lid and - after a bit of fiddling and a lot of swearing - I manage to haul it off. The lid clatters to the ground and a load of paint sprays onto my face.

_Brilliant._

I use my thumb to scrape a bit off and then hold it over the pot. Then I stare in shock.

_No. That can’t be right. Baz wouldn’t... would he?_

The paint dripping off my finger is a rank shade of lime green.

It looks like it’s from a comic about someone getting chucked in radioactive chemicals and getting superpowers. Like if you took to the grossest shade of yellow and the grossest shade of green you could find, ate them and then puked into a paint pot.

Oh, well. If Baz says that it’s tasteful. It’s probably just some new trend or something. I stir the paint a bit, then grab a roller and dip it in.

***

A few hours later, I’ve done two and a half of the walls, and I’m pretty chuffed with it (even though it hurts my eyes to look at the walls for too long. I’m sure I’ll get used to it). I hear the key turn in the door and the click as it shuts behind Baz.

“Hello?” he calls.

“In here.”

“Would you like tea?”

“Yes, please.” I’ve got to tell him.

I continue painting, then say in my most casual voice: “Um, Baz?”

“Oh, Merlin what’s happened? Did you get paint everywhere? Is there paint all over the living room?”

He saw right through my casual voice, then.

“No, everything’s fine. I’m just not sure about this colour.”

“That’s just because you’re in the process of painting. It’ll look fine when ALISTER CROWLEY!”

I hear shattering and whirl around to see Baz with both hands to his mouth, eyes wide with horror. The tea tray is on the floor and one of the mugs has smashed. (The teapot’s fine, though. Thank magic).

Baz points a shaking finger to the walls. “What... what is that?”

I shrug. “Paint?”

“I can see that, _Simon_ ,” Baz snaps. “My question is, why is it that colour?”

“It’s the colour you left for me.”

“But I ordered Swiss pine green, not lime green!” Realisation dawns on his face.

“Those sound pretty similar,” I say.

“But they look completely different! One was a beautiful shade of dark green, which would go perfectly with the carpet and the other is,” he waves his arms about. “ _This_!”

“Do you want me to try to take it off?”

I really hope not. This took me _hours_ to do.

I think Baz can hear that I really don’t want to, so he sighs and says: “No, we’ll just do the rest. We can always paint over it. I’ll help you.”

Baz picks up a small brush and goes around the edges of the bits I’ve already done. I keep using the roller over the new bits.

And it’s actually kind of fun. We cue up a playlist and sing along while we work. We drink tea and eat Jaffa cakes. At one point, Baz flicks a bit of paint at me and it lands on my cheek. So I dip both my hands in the pot at put them on his face and kiss him. He puts his hand on my chest so there’s now a disgustingly bright green handprint on my shirt.

The newspaper we put down is absolutely _covered_ in paint. Baz will pitch an absolute fit if it soaks through. So, we get back to work, nattering back and forth, both of us covered in lime green and grinning. After, Baz says he’ll call up the shop about getting the right colour.

***

That was two years ago. He still hasn’t called.  
Now, we lie on the sofa watching a movie surrounded by lime green walls.  
They may be hideous, but they’re ours.


End file.
